


Safe From the Fire

by orphan_account



Series: Love Me Dead (One-Shot Readers) [3]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Jealousy, Kidnapping, Possessive Behavior, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-28 11:26:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19811329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Grantaire's childhood friend is spending time in France with her family in the weeks before the June Rebellion. Enjolras falls for her, and he decides that no one else is allowed to be around her but him.





	Safe From the Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This work is from my "Love Me Dead" collection - a collection of x Reader stories with problematic tropes. To find out more, read the note at the end!

The one thing Enjolras could remember loving more than anything else was his country. All he ever wanted to do with his life was ‘save’ France. The lower-class was poorer than poor, while royalty like Marie Antoinette lived in fantasy worlds where people could just eat cake if they were hungry. So, Enjolras was ready to take things into his own hands, and he had just the way to do it: he was going to incite a revolution, starting with a rebellion.

The plan started with all of the friends he could gather while we went to school. Many of them were happy to take a break from their studies, and besides, Enjolras’s passion for the subject was proving to be interesting. There was just one person who didn’t seem to have their heart in the matter: a boy around his age named Grantaire. Enjolras couldn’t recall ever seeing him around campus, but he found Enjolras anyways. When he got close, Enjolras could _smell_ the whiskey on his breath from five feet away. “Hey,” Grantaire started with a smile. “You’re the one trying to rally students at that café this weekend, right?”

Enjolras stood a little taller, acting more mature and calmer about the matter. “That would be me, yes. Is there something I can help you with?”

Grantaire shook his head. “I was thinking about coming, I have nothing better to do this weekend…” he trailed off. “Mind if I bring a friend? She doesn’t go here, but she’s down for the weekend and she insists on going _somewhere._ ”

Enjolras was secretly annoyed. He _had_ been hand-picking students he thought would share his passion, he didn’t think it would reach someone like… him. However, he needed as many people as possible to rally his cause, so he sighed and nodded. “Sure, bring whoever. What’s your name?”

Grantaire extended a hand. Enjolras debated whether or not he should take it: he felt like just touching him would make him smell of booze the rest of the day. However, he shook his hand as the other man introduced himself. “I’m Grantaire,” he said with a smile.

“Enjolras. Meet us at the ABC café at 12:00 tomorrow,” Enjolras half expected him to forget and not show up, and he’d be fine with that.

Grantaire let go. “See you then. Hope they have good drinks there.”

 _I don’t think they serve Brandy,_ Enjolras thought, watching the man turn his heel and walk away. He sighed. No matter, he had already collected half the amount of people he hoped would be there. He had to keep asking. he turned around and got back to his business, anxious and excited about the rally tomorrow.

**\---**

The day had come. Enjolras had made arrangements with the café, and he was set up in one of the open spaces, many chairs around the table, hoping that everyone who said they could make it would come. It was 11:30, and he had already prepared what he was going to say. If everything turned out the way he planned, these students would have as much passion as he did running through their veins for France.

12 o’clock drew nearer, and people started dripping in. The first to arrive was a man named Combeferre, looking clean shaven and happy to be there. Enjolras shook his hand and thanked him for coming as more people slinked in. Feuilly, Bahorel, Joly, Prouvaire, Marius, Courfeyrac and Bossuet. He looked around, by 12:10 it didn’t look like anyone else was coming. Enjolras sighed, he had hoped for a better turn out, but he was secretly glad that Grantaire hadn’t shown up. He felt like he’d get complaints.

Enjolras started his prepared speech, watching the reactions of the people gathered. He smiled to himself: it seemed as though he picked the perfect group of people. They all watched him diligently, and with actual interest shining in their eyes. This was a group of men he could be _happy_ with bringing to a fight.

Enjolras talked for about half an hour before his attention was brought to the door of the café opening, and in stumbled Grantaire with a huge smile on his face and someone next to him who he had _certainly_ never seen before. She was dressed expensively, you could tell just by looking at her she was a part of the top 2%. She wore a long dress that went all the way down to her ankles, a necklace and had a small bag with her. Grantaire smiled at Enjolras, meanwhile, the girl look utterly uninterested in the large group of men. Enjolras trailed off and attention in the group suddenly went towards the two who had just walked in. Everyone could agree on at least one thing: the girl Grantaire was with was _stunning._

Enjolras shook the girl out of her thoughts and looked annoyingly at Grantaire. Granted, he did clean up well. he looked better than yesterday, and even as he got closer, the smell of booze seemed to be completely gone. “You’re late,” he pointed out. “You missed the entire heart of the meeting.”

“Sorry, I had a little trouble getting ready,” Grantaire laughed off the look Enjolras was giving him. if looks could kill, daggers would be flying out of his eyes.

Enjolras shook his head. “No matter, I was just about to open the meeting for discussion. Thoughts, anyone?”

Combeferre was the first to speak up. “I agree that we need to focus on rights, and I’m not just talking about the rights of the citizen. I think we need to focus on the main point: there are universal rights that should be guaranteed to every citizen. Not only are those basic rights not being met, we need to make ourselves heard in a way they’ll respect. We must also focus on education of the people so they can find their own voice.”

Enjolras smiled and nodded. “I can agree with that, Combeferre. Anyone else have any thoughts?”

After Combeferre, almost everyone was eager to share their viewpoints. Courfeyrac attempted to make some points about how he felt that many who were in the middle class needed to use their position to help the lower class, and Feuilly backed him up profusely. Bahorel started making bold claims about how the higher class had nothing to worry about, so they wouldn’t bother helping, but Bossuet debated him on the matter, since he himself was higher class but very unlucky. After all, he was homeless and lived with Joly half of the time. It went on for nearly another hour, and Enjolras couldn’t help but notice two people who weren’t taking a part of the discussion and didn’t look the slightest bit interested: Grantaire and his friend, who had bought herself tea while the discussion was taking place. “You two,” Enjolras said during a lull in the discussion, turning everyone’s attention once again to the quiet ones. “What do you think about the matter?”

Grantaire was at a loss for words. In all honesty, he was barely paying attention. His parents had put a lot of pressure on him to ‘keep an eye on ______’ since they were worried about her parents. Her parents owned a great part of his parent’s land, and when they came down to visit, there was a kind of pressure placed on his family to be model citizens. His parents had spent the entire night before sobering him up and getting him to wear nicer clothes, and all he thought about this morning was how much he wanted to get a drink. So, when Enjolras called on him, his mind was blank.

______’s mind, however, did not.

“I think there’s something here to be said about those in the higher class.” She stood up, and Bahorel wanted to scoff. What would _she_ know about their situation? Her family obviously didn’t need this revolution.

“Like what?” Enjolras encouraged her to speak more. This was the first time he had heard her speak the entire time she had been here, and he found her voice mesmerizing, as if she was a siren.

“Well, it’s true that most of the higher class couldn’t care less of this revolution takes place or not. In fact, it would be better for them if it didn’t, they don’t need the headache of having to deal with the majority of the population demanding better treatment. However, for those of us with _morals,_ ” she made eye-contact with Bossuet, the man who had mentioned he left his upper-class lifestyle, “… we need to use our privilege accordingly. Your views make sense, but unless your word is worth something, they won’t pay attention until violence or a large movement occurs. the key is to try to do something _before_ it resorts to violence.”

Enjolras stood there and smiled. _That’s_ a view he could get behind. Grantaire was stunned, he had no idea she was political, but happy she was; maybe this had been entertaining for her.

The discussion ended up dwindling and the meeting came to end. Many of them stayed, beginning to talk to each other. Enjolras wanted to talk to her right away, but someone else did too: the self-proclaimed ‘romantic’ of the group, Prouvaire. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing with a mess like him?” Prouvaire asked, gesturing towards Grantaire.

______ sighed. His bluntness and shameless flirting was… well, annoying. Not to mention, she didn’t find him all that attractive. In fact, she had seen the man who she _had_ found attractive was walking up to her before he stepped in the way. She didn’t want to be rude, but she also didn’t really want to waste time talking to this man and miss the gorgeous blonde man she had her eyes on originally.

She gave a look to Grantaire. As much as her visiting stressed his family out, the two of them were actually good friends. Grantaire recognized that look in her eye, even if it had been over a year since he last saw you. It was the same look you gave him two years ago when a creepy innkeeper had tried making moves on you. When you gave him that look, Grantaire knew it was time to intervene.

“Hey, Prouvaire, right?” Grantaire greeted him like an old friend. “You’ve been playing that flute half the meeting, what sings can you actually play on it?”

Prouvaire looked at the silver flute in his hands, probably one of the nicest things he owned. “I can play quite a few songs on it, actually,” he sounded proud of himself. He was one easily swayed to a different conversation, especially if the new conversation was about music.

“Mind playing a few for me?” Grantaire put an arm around Prouvaire’s shoulders, whisking him away to a quieter part of the room and winking at ______. _He’s taking care of it,_ she thought with a smile.

Enjolras had watched the scene unfold, and watching Grantaire and ______ get along so well set off an emotion he didn’t know he had in him: slight jealousy. He wanted to be that close to her, he found her attractive and intelligent. He cleared his throat and caught ______’s attention, who turned to him with a half-smile still on her face. “I’ve never seen you around here,” Enjolras started. He cursed himself internally, wishing he was better at flirting. In all seriousness, she was about to be the first woman he actually took an interest in, and the only one he ever flirted with.

So, obviously, his flirting wasn’t top-notch.

She didn’t seem to mind, engaging in conversation with him easily. “I don’t live down here, my family lives up North,” she told him. “My family likes to vacation in France sometimes, and so we join Grantaire and his family here for a few months.”

“Oh, so you are family friends?” Enjolras asked, and inside he was secretly happy. It was less intimate if you were family friends, and in his mind, that gave him more of a chance of getting closer to her.

“Yeah, I see him maybe for maybe three months every year or two,” she sighed, looking over at him. “He’s certainly changed since the last time I saw him. He’s spent all day today trying to ‘act proper’ and keep me entertained. His parents put far too much pressure on him, and honestly…” she trialed off, looking back to Enjolras. “I’m getting bored, and he’s getting grumpy. He hasn’t had a drink all day, and I don’t like going to bars.”

A plan hatched in Enjolras’s head. “You know about his… excessive drinking?”

“Since he was about sixteen, yep. I think he acts grumpier when he’s off it than when he’s on.”

Enjolras smiled at her, and she felt her heart flutter just a little bit. He had perfect teeth, and his smile lit up his entire face. “Well, why don’t you let me keep you entertained today, and he can go find a bar to drown himself in?” he asked. “I promise, I’ll try not to bore you.”

______ gave him a smile. Enjolras adored the way happiness looked on her. “I’d like that. Here, I’ll go tell him,” she turned her heel and went to talk to Grantaire, who was in a group now with Marius and Prouvaire.

She tapped his shoulder and he spun around. Marius and Prouvaire turned to her too, and Prouvaire smiled. He really thought she was attractive and hoped she would stay to talk to them. Grantaire was the first to speak. “______, what’re you doing over here? Joining us?”

“Just the opposite,” she told him. “I know that you’re supposed to lead me around and my parents want you to keep an eye on me, but let’s face it Grantaire, you’d rather not.”

Grantaire was silent for a moment. “Your parents and mine want me to keep an eye on you, ______.”

She handed him a small bag with a little but of the money her parents gave her this morning in it. “I’m getting out of here, with… someone interesting,” she looked back at Enjolras, who was watching the situation like a hawk. “How about you forget to mention that we split up? We’ll meet back here at 7 o’clock and head home together, like we never separated.”

Grantaire took the bribe with a smile, already thinking about what he could spend it on. “We never did,” he told her with a wink.

She patted his back. “Thanks Grant, I owe you one,” she turned back around and headed back to Enjolras, not noticing the death stare he gave Grantaire when you touched him. “Ready to go?”

Enjolras snapped out of it and turned back to her. “Oh! Yes, I am,” he told her, offering his arm to her.

______ wrapped her arm around his, and he thought he’d melt from even just that simple touch. “Where we going to go?”

“Well, there’s one place I know that’s simply breathtaking…”

**\---**

Two months had passed since their first meeting. Every Saturday, ______ would come to the meetings and take a seat next to Enjolras at the table. Even Grantaire still came, thought sometimes he was a trouble-maker, he was loyal to the cause. Not only that, but he had promised his parents to look after you. Paris was becoming a more dangerous city every day, the quality of life shifting from one extreme to another. Robberies were frequent, and shady figures walked the streets at night.

For the past two months, every day when they went out, Grantaire would split with ______ at some point during the day as she went to spend time with Enjolras. They had hit it off better than he’s seen anyone ever get along, and Grantaire was happy for her.

However, he was also noticing concerning things about Enjolras that she was looking over because of her infatuation. Small things, but still enough to worry him.

When they were at meetings, he couldn’t help but notice that if anyone spoke to ______ besides Enjolras, he would get upset, sometimes even stopping in the middle of talking to tell whoever was trying to make conversation with ______ to ‘pay attention and quit talking.’ However, that was small, but he couldn’t ignore the looks Enjolras would give them. Sometimes Grantaire would want to accompany them somewhere, and Enjolras would _insist_ that they could go along white giving that same stare. He held her hand so tightly, and he wants to spend every free second he has with her.

Grantaire was bothered by it, but when he brought it up to ______, she just brushed it off. “You’re seeing things, Grant,” she called him by her nickname for him. “Enjolras is wonderful. He’s kind, chivalrous, smart, and he genuinely cares about me. Sure, maybe he’s a little protective, but these are dangerous times. Have you heard about what happens to some of the women on the streets at night? Especially some of those poor women who had to turn to selling themselves. If they get killed, they’re swept under the rug. That’s not right. Enjolras is just looking out for me.”

“I get that, but he can do it without being so…” Grantaire trailed off.

“So _what_? Come on, finish your sentence.”

“Jealous, is what I was going to say. Don’t tell me you haven’t seen it, ______. His reason for being rude to anyone who talks to you isn’t because they’re disrupting his speech.”

“You don’t know that. He’s passionate about his cause.”

“He’s passionate about _you,_ ______.”

“Is that so bad?” ______ asked. She shook her head. “You’re seeing something that isn’t there. He’s sweet, alright? He just wants to look after me.”

Grantaire put his hands up in defense with a sigh. “Fine, I’ll let it go, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” she told him. Their serious discussion was disrupted when a little kid came running up to them, following them to the ABC café. It was a Saturday afternoon, and it was almost time for the meeting start. The little kid had joined then a month ago, and despite his age, he was quite clever. ______ was happy to have a break from the conversation, greeting him. “Gavroche! Are you going to walk with us?”

He nodded, standing between the two of them. “I tried bringing my sister along, but she didn’t want any part of this today, apparently. I think she and my dad are up to something today.”

______ shivered. She knew his dad, unfortunately. It was that creepy innkeeper that Grantaire had to distract a few years back. He was one of the people she feared at night, which is why she always stuck close to Grantaire and Enjolras. She felt the safest when she was around them.

They headed into the café, and Enjolras’s face lit up when he saw ______. Everything was just better for him when she was around and seeing her made his day instantly better. There was a part of him that needed to see her every day, a nagging in his brain telling him that he needed to spend all his time with her. When they were apart, he was in a bad mood, and when other people spoke to her, his mood was worse. Today especially, since she left last night, his brain had been aflame with thoughts that told him ne _needed_ to see her.

He wanted her to himself. He didn’t like sharing her time, and even the fact that she and Grantaire spent some time together when she went home annoyed him. He wished that she would move in with him, but that was moving far too fast. He dreaded the day she’d have to back up North.

She went over and took her seat next to him. He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on her cheek, and even that simple act was more PDA than he’d ever displayed before. She blushed and he was pleased with himself. “Good afternoon, ______,” he told her in a happy tone.

“Nice to see you,” she reached over squeezed his hand.

Prouvaire watched them get along. Even knowing that she and Enjolras were together, he still wanted to write poems about her, talk to her, read to her, everything. He found her wildly attractive, and he was a hopeless romantic.

As the meeting began, Prouvaire thought he’d be able to get away with talking during Enjolras’s speech. He usually played flute softly and got away with it, so he thought he could be even more subtle talking to ______. He looked over at Enjolras, deep in the throughs of passion talking about a rebellion he was trying to plan. He leaned towards ______ after making sure that Enjolras was distracted. “I wrote something for you,” he told her, gesturing to his flute. “On this.”

______ blushed. She was used to admirers, but she thought Prouvaire would’ve given up by now. “You shouldn’t have,” she told him. “Really, it’s kind, but…”

Prouvaire was beginning to insist. “Do you want to hear it? I called it _mi amour,_ ” he told her bringing the flute up to his lips with a hopeful look in his eyes.

 _How creative,_ ______ thought sarcastically. “Really you shouldn’t while Enjolras is talking.”

At this point, Enjolras _had_ started to notice them, and there was a nagging voice in his head telling him to intervene. The other part of his brain was telling him to ignore it, just continue with the speech. One of them had to win.

“I’ve done it before, he barely notices. I worked all night on this song,” Prouvaire ignored her and began playing the song anyways. At that point, he had drawn a fair amount of attention to himself. Combeferre, Joly and Grantaire were the only ones still paying attention to Enjolras as he started to play the song.

It wasn’t a bad song, Enjolras would give him that. Prouvaire was actually talented on the flute, and most of the time Enjolras didn’t care when he played. However, this was pushing him over the edge. Enjolras stopped talking and leaned down, snatching the flute right out of Prouvaire’s mouth violently. You could hear Prouvaire give out a small yelp of pain as his front teeth were hit and one of them chipped. Prouvaire put a hand to his mouth. “What was that for?” he asked through the pain, glaring at Enjolras. However, his look had _nothing_ on the death stare that Enjolras was giving him.

“Do you really have to ask?” Enjolras scoffed. “Even ______ mentioned it, you shouldn’t play while someone is talking. It’s very rude.”

“Like you actually care!” Prouvaire reached over and stole his flute out of Enjolras’s hands. “I’ve played this flute tens of times during meetings, you never bat an eye. You’re just bitter that I was talking to ______, you get bitter when anyone even looks her _way._ ”

 _So I’m not the only one who’s noticing,_ Grantaire thought, looking at Enjolras. He had never brought it up, no one had until now. Enjolras bit his lip, thinking of a response. “You don’t need to write her a song, Prouvaire. She’s not into you, and I don’t care about your lonely soul. Find some other girl to pine after.” His words were sharp and venomous, everyone’s attention was once again on Enjolras.

“Enjolras, please…” ______ took his arm gently, turning his attention towards her. “You’re making a spectacle of yourself. Calm down.”

“If you cared about her, you’d listen,” Prouvaire pushed his luck, stuffing his flute back in his bag.

Enjolras turned to Prouvaire and curled his hands into fists. It was taking everything he had not to punch Prouvaire right in the face. ______ forced her hand into his, hoping to ease his tension. “Enjolras, please,” she started. “Let it go.”

Enjolras looked around at the men surrounding him – the men he hoped to start a rebellion with. Wigging out on one of them was _not_ what he needed. He squeezed ______’s hand and looked at the group. “Today’s meeting is over, it’s been a long week. We’ve discussed some basics for the rebellion, so be sure to head home and think about what you’re willing to give for your cause.”

Enjolras didn’t stay around to talk, immediately leaving the café with ______’s hand in his. This wasn’t his usual behavior, and she was growing worried for him. “Enjolras, what’s gotten into you?” she asked as soon as they were walking away from the café.

“Nothing,” he insisted, trying to calm down from the situation that happened inside.

______ let go of his hand, and he felt his heart sink. “I’m not buying that. You’ve never freaked out on Prouvaire or anyone like that before, and you’ve never ended a meeting early. Not even that day when Combeferre got sick in the middle of the meeting and Joly had to help him. So, what’s the big deal?”

Enjolras sighed, looking at her seriously. “You can’t keep coming to the meetings,” he told her bluntly.

______ looked at him with pure shock in her eyes. “Excuse me? Why not? I care about this cause too, Enjolras, you know that.”

“I don’t like the way half the men in that room look at you!” Enjolras was suddenly shouting, something he never did to ______. In fact, she’s never seen him this upset about something. “Especially Prouvaire, he has no business writing you poems and songs, and half the guys in that room spend a good portion of the meeting just staring at you and not paying attention to the discussion.”

She crossed her arms. “It doesn’t bother me, so why does it bother you so much? I can live with being gawked at, you’re the one who’s bothered it by the most.”

“Because you’re _mine,_ ” Enjolras said suddenly, pulling her towards him in a hug. “You’re all I think about, ______. None of them could care about you like I do, and they shouldn’t stare at you and disrespect your privacy the way that they do.”

______ stared at him before pushing him away, wrapping her arms around herself. For once, she actually felt uncomfortable around him. _This isn’t how things are supposed to be,_ she thought. Enjolras made her feel safe up until this moment. “Grantaire was right,” she told him quietly. “You’re jealous. No, this goes beyond jealousy. I am not _yours,_ Enjolras. I don’t belong to anyone.”

Enjolras realized what her body language meant. Her eyes showed that she was scared, her body language read that she was uncomfortable. _I messed up,_ he thought. _I revealed too much._ He meant what he said: she was his. He considered her a part of him now, he needed her to feel alive, to feel right. “I just care about you, ______. You’re important to me. You mean everything to me.”

She shook her head. “I can’t do this, Enjolras. Not when you’re acting like this. I don’t want to be around you as long as you’re going to act like this.”

She turned to walk away, but Enjolras grabbed her wrist. She turned around. The eyes that once held endless kindness and passion now held one thing she could read: determination. “Am I not enough for you? Are you unsatisfied? I can be more for you, ______. I can take care of you, I can be anyone you want me to be, just tell me what I need to change. Just don’t leave, I’ll do anything to have you by my side.”

“Let go of me,” she pulled her wrist back. “That’s exactly what I’m worried about. I saw the way you looked at Prouvaire, like you wanted to hurt your own friend. You’re a danger to yourself, Enjolras, and you’re a danger to me. I can’t do this. I’m going back to Grantaire.”

Enjolras watched her walk away. _This isn’t over,_ he thought. _One way or another, you will be mine._

**\---**

It was almost a month after the incident, and Enjolras wasn’t even close to giving up. Since that day, his determination to get ______ back matched, and even exceeded, his determination to start a revolution. He would spend his days following her and Grantaire around the city, hiding from their view as he kept tabs on her. Making sure she was safe, making sure she didn’t get close to any other men, making sure she was still his. Anyone who tried _anything_ with her would find themselves becoming a mark for robbery as Enjolras would slip anonymous tips to the Thenardiers about when they left their house. They’d learn.

______ wasn’t completely clueless to Enjolras’s whereabouts, despite not knowing the extent of it. There were times when she was with Grantaire that she’d catch Enjolras following her. As far as she knew, it was only a few times a week, However, it was still enough to put her off. She never left Grantaire’s side now, he was her unlikely protector. Grantaire took the situation very seriously: the only time he really left her alone was on Saturday meetings, like the one today. She’d stay at home, and he’d go to her as soon as the meeting was over.

Today’s meeting ended up being monumental: General Lamarck, one of their allies and main advocators had died. Enjolras knew the time was upon them to start the revolution: starting at Lamarck’s memorial in just a few short days. When Grantaire got home, he found ______’s parents had gotten wind of this and expected Paris to become worse. For these reasons, they were cutting their trip short and returning to the North the very next morning.

It was ______’s last day in the city, and Grantaire wanted to make it special. He knew she didn’t like bars, but he got together a few people from the meetings that she had gotten along with before she left and invited them to come join him tonight at a local brewery to say goodbye to ______. Even thought he stressed that it was supposed to be _kept secret_ from Enjolras, Grantaire was sitting at a table when he noticed the blonde man staring ______ down from across the room. He wasn’t even trying to hide himself today, wearing Lamarck’s red uniform that Gavroche had found for him.

Grantaire went up to ______. “I don’t want to bring your night down, but Enjolras is here,” he told her. She was mid-conversation with Courfeyrac when he brought it up.

She sighed, and Courfeyrac began to speak. “I don’t know what happened between you guys, but maybe you should talk to him, ______. He misses you, we can all tell that. He can be blunt, and his passions may blind him, but he’s our friend. Our leader. We respect him, and we know that something happened that no one is talking about.”

“I don’t want to talk to him,” ______ said shortly, not wanting to explain the situation. The man who once made her feel safe now only brought fear to her whenever she saw him. She looked towards Grantaire. “Will you please speak to him and tell him to leave? I don’t want him here.”

Grantaire nodded. “I’ll go talk to him. It’s not like I can kick him out though, we’re in a public space that’s not ours.”

“If he refuses to leave, just tell me,” ______ told him. She had half-expected Enjolras to show up, which is why she had a back-up plan.

Grantaire headed towards Enjolras, catching his attention. Grantaire sat calmly across from Enjolras, but knew this conversation wasn’t going to stay calm for very long. “Let’s get to the point,” Grantaire started. “What are you doing here?”

“Is it true?” Enjolras asked, ignoring the question. “Is ______ leaving tomorrow morning?”

“She is, her parents don’t feel France is safe anymore. They’re headed elsewhere,” Grantaire told him. “Listen, despite all of this Enjolras, I like to think you’re my friend. Maybe it’s for the best she’s leaving, eh? You need to give her space. This isn’t the first time she’s noticed you following her around. You make her feel unsafe.”

That is what set him off. He stood up. “Me?” he asked in shock, laughing a little bit. “I’m keeping her safe. I watch her to make sure she’s okay when you’re too drunk to notice half the men in this town stare at her with ill intentions. _I’m_ the one who’s keeping her safe, not you.”

Grantaire looked hurt. “Do you really think that I’m that much of an idiot? That I don’t know what’s going on around me?”

“I do,” Enjolras said bluntly. “I’m keeping her safe, she’s mine to keep safe. No one hurts her when I’m around.”

Grantaire stood up. “You’re a creep, Enjolras. You follow her around, you don’t leave her alone, and anyone who gets in your way is a second thought.”

“Just go back to the bar and drink yourself to rock bottom again, Grantaire. You’re good at that.”

______ wasn’t sure who swung first, but she knew that Grantaire was the first one who got hit. In the jaw, just enough to bruise him and draw him back. ______ ran over to her back-up plan: the officer she had her father hire to watch over the event. A man named Javert, who was all too happy to intervene. He knew Enjolras was on the opposing side of the crown, and Javert was loyal. Javert walked over to the two before ______ could even finish her sentence. “Break it up,” he told them, then looked at Grantaire. “Are you alright?”

Enjolras rolled his eyes like a teenager. “He swung at me first, he’s drunk off his ass,” he cursed.

“I’m still lucid,” Grantaire stood taller, rubbing his jaw. “I’m not impaired as much as he’d like you to think.” Then he turned to Javert. “We’re all fine here, just an argument getting too heated. I don’t want to press charges, but I’d like if you can remove this man from the bar.”

Javert wished Grantaire wanted to take action but didn’t want to press the man. Grantaire was already grabbing the first cold drink he saw and holding it to his jaw, heading back towards ______. Enjolras stared at them, and Javert stared intently at the blonde man in front of him. “Right, out you go,” Javert said, grabbing Enjolras by the arm.

“I can show myself out,” Enjolras pulled away from Javert and headed towards the door, continuing to stare at ______. He wasn’t going to let her leave so easily. No matter what it took, she was not going to leave France tomorrow.

Enjolras walked out, being met with the warm summer air. June in France wasn’t too cold at night, so he didn’t feel a need to layer up. He was making a plan in his head as he walked.

_Rope, blindfold, gag, location, midnight. Rope, blindfold, gag, location, midnight. Has to be tonight. Has to happen._

_She cannot leave._

**\---**

______ felt terror. The last thing she remembered, she woke up to a sound in her room. Before she could even see what was happening, a pillow was over her head, smothering her until she passed out. She thought she was going to be killed, but she next thing she knew, she was coming to, waking up with a pain in her head. All the saw was black, feeling a thick blindfold covering her eyes.

She tried moving, but she was bound to what felt like a chair. Her legs tied to the legs of the char, her arms and wrists bound to the arms of the chair, and a rope around her waist tying to her to the back of it. She couldn’t move if she tried. There was something in her mouth too, she couldn’t seem to speak or scream, but she wanted to. She began to try to scream for help when she heard a horribly familiar voice.

“You’re awake!” Enjolras’s voice rang out. He moved behind her and removed the blindfold. She looked around, but it didn’t help, she had no idea where she was. “I was getting worried, I thought maybe I tied the gag or the rope too tight.”

She tried speaking, but she was barely audible through the gag in her mouth. Enjolras continued. “Sorry darling, the gag has to happen. I know you won’t believe me, but this is all for you. ______: I love you. I love you more than anything else in this life, don’t you get it? I couldn’t stand the thought of you leaving. Deep down, I know you love me too. So, I’m keeping you here until the rebellion is over. Then we’ll be safe together.”

______ shook her head, tears beginning to fill her eyes. She didn’t want this, she never expected Enjolras to go this far. He just smiled at her and wiped the tears off her face. “Don’t cry, my love, it’ll be over soon. Then I won’t have to hide you here. I know you’re scared, but I will keep you safe from all the fire and all the terror in France. The best way I can think to keep you safe is to keep you here, hidden. You’ll understand in time.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “You will. I have to go, I have to prepare for the building of the barricade. The day is almost here.”

She whined, and Enjolras felt bad for a moment. She obviously wanted to say something, but he didn’t want her to scream and give away their position. He tried to make out her words through the gag, barely understanding her say, “Please, let me go. Please, I won’t tell anyone. I just don’t want to be here.”

Enjolras had a response ready. “I can’t do that, darling. I can’t guarantee your safety anywhere else. The safest place for you is here. I promise.” He turned to start to leave. “I’ll be back tonight to feed you. Don’t fret, love. I won’t forget you, I’m here to keep you safe. I promise.”

He turned his heel and disappeared. ______ never felt so unsafe in her life.

**\---**

It had been almost a week since _______ last saw Enjolras. He had been feeding her regularly and visiting her, but on the night he said it was time to defend the barricade, he never came back. Even from where she was, she could hear gunshots, and screaming, and people dying. She was crying, she couldn’t move. If the enemy found her, she was dead. But that was almost a week ago. She had a sinking feeling that no one was coming for her.

That was, until, she heard footsteps.

She looked up hopefully. She would be happy to see anybody, even Enjolras. She wondered if he had done this on purpose to break her, to make her need him as much as he needed her. However, it wasn’t Enjolras. It was a party of people. Once one of them found her, she heard them yell. “We found someone!”

She yelled through the gag as they ran towards her. When they got to her, they removed the gag first while they worked on the other ropes. She took a deep breath and let out deep sobs. They began to ask her more questions, more people filling the room to help her. She was bombarded by questions.

“Are you alright?”

“No.”

“What’s your name?”

“______ ______. My parents aren’t from around here, I need to find them.”

“You’re that missing girl! What happened to you?”

“I was kidnapped. Oh god, I was taken by…” she trailed off. She didn’t even want to say his name.

One of the party members started talking. “By the French soldiers, or the barricade boys?” ______ remained silent. They continued, “They’re all dead but a boy named Marius Pontmercy.”

______ sighed and smiled. She felt _truly free_ for the first time in a long time. Then it hit her: that meant Grantaire, her friend, her protector, was dead too. She sunk to the floor, wordlessly, and began crying again.

The party looked around at each other, figuring the girl must be in shock. They helped her to her feet. “Come now, your parents have been looking for you everywhere.”

As she was led out, she knew everything was different now. She was free, but she was still trapped in the mind games that Enjolras threw on her.

It wasn’t right, but then again, she was just glad to be alive. Happy to be free.

**Author's Note:**

> I do requests for this series, I'm flexible when it comes to fandoms, message me for more information! My only limit is my writing is strictly limited to fictional characters.


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